


My kingdom for your graces

by frais



Series: Shine [2]
Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, Gym Class Heroes
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ass Play, Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Finger Sucking, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4431167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frais/pseuds/frais
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabe gets drunk, Patrick gets drunker, and Travie is invited into their bed for the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My kingdom for your graces

**Author's Note:**

> Consent issues tagged due to alcohol consumption, nothing else.  
> This fits into the main fic around the time Pete and Patrick started talking again, so 2012ish.

Patrick is wasted. The kind that means it's a feat that he's still standing up. Normally Gabe would totally be up for joining him in that drunken state, but Patrick's been in such a bad place recently, that this doesn't feel like a normal drunk. Gabe's trying to be supportive. He's growing up and taking responsibility. Pete's back in Patrick's life again now, and one slip up and confession from Patrick will mean an afternoon of Gabe getting the shit lectured out of him from a dude that knows nothing of what it's like to live with Patrick. Gabe is totally, one hundred percent, _not_ bitter about it.

It's probably Gabe's fault anyway, because he threw the party as a way to cheer them both up. He's never really learned how to deal with Patrick's issues; his avoidance of food and conversation. He lives with it and just calms him down when he can, but Patrick likes to bury his head in the sand and Gabe's sometimes at a loss for when he's going to come up for air.

It's not like the party itself is the main cheer up anyway. Travie's here tonight, and while Gabe's definitely monogamous to Patrick, they've both always picked him as their _hall pass_. Travie's always been so cool with everything too, and they almost hooked up years ago with Bill, but never got around to it. Gabe knows he'll be up for it, and Patrick's aware that tonight's the night too.

He hadn't figured Patrick getting absolutely shit-faced prior to this though, and so he's spent most of the party keeping an eye on Patrick swaying and dancing, hanging off of random dudes he finds on his way in and out of rooms. It's only booze that's making him happy, Gabe knows as much, but it is nice to see him smile.

"I didn't eat anything all day," Patrick explains when Gabe grabs a hold of him. Patrick's holding his own hip, bruised from drunkenly falling into the kitchen island a few seconds before. "Empty stomach and now a head full of booze."

"You know not to do that shit." Gabe lifts Patrick's shirt to see the dark mottling across his hip, ugly and large. He strokes fingers down it, staring at Patrick's face as he flinches. "I'm not touching the food stuff until you're sober."

"Sorry," Patrick mutters, not sounding it. He puts his arms over Gabe's middle, round chin resting in the centre of his chest. "Love you, _Gabe_."

"Yeah, I know." He pushes Patrick's hair back, eyes catching on the flush of his face, the dark pink of his lips. He's wobbling from where he's tucked to Gabe's chest, unsteady on his feet. "You need to lay down."

Gabe walks Patrick through the house, hands under his arms to stop him falling backwards. He's a lot thinner these days and far easier to move, enough so that Gabe hasn't got to do much to keep Patrick on track.

"You have to stay," Patrick says when Gabe dumps him on their bed. The sound of music is dulled through the walls and Gabe takes a deep breath, irritated that Patrick's ruined his chance for not only a good time, but a threesome too. Patrick just sits up as Gabe flicks on the lamp, his hair ruffled and his eyes red. It's cute, really, and Gabe feels the annoyance lessen slightly. "Don't just abandon me."

"There’s no letting go of your whining even when drunk." At least Gabe knows what to do with this; he can placate this. He rolls onto the bed beside Patrick, staring up at their ceiling and listening to the party going on downstairs. There's a crash, the sound of something breaking, and he hopes beyond belief that it's nothing techy of Patrick's. He looks over at Patrick with a heavy sigh, Gabe just really likes to party. It's testament to his love for Patrick that he's up here instead.

"Gabe, have you ever written a song about me?" Patrick asks quietly, voice soft and sweet. Gabe laughs, tilts Patrick's chin so he can look into his eyes. His pupils are regular, not bloodshot. He thinks it's just booze and nothing heavier.

"Have I ever written a song about you? _Big Poppa_ for sure is about you." Patrick laughs, rolling onto his side, red mouth open as he listens. Gabe thinks if he just puts Patrick to sleep, maybe he'll enjoy the rest of the party. Travie's in town for a while, they can fuck at another point.

"You're lying," Patrick says, nose scrunching up. "We weren't together back then."

"Yeah, I'm lying, but it'd fun to imagine singing it to you now." He rubs a finger over Patrick's forehead, against damp skin. " _Diamond girl, I wanna wrap you around the world..._ " Patrick just snorts in response, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Gabe thinks he's got him off already and is about to leave, when they peel open again.

"You know, everyone thinks you're an asshole, papi, but I just think you're really sweet,” Patrick says, leaning in and breathing his whiskey breath all over Gabe.

"I don't think _everyone_ thinks I'm an asshole," Gabe says, ignoring the hesitant hum Patrick gives in response. "Why don't you have a nap?"

"Not tired." Patrick rolls onto his back again, clumsy hand pushing the hair from his forehead. "Stop trying to leave me."

"I just wanna have fun!" Gabe says. He's never really been one for holding back and he's still the immature fuck he was way back when they started. If there's a party, and he's not there, it grates so fucking hard. This is _his_ party and _his_ booze that everyone is drinking.

"Is that all?" Patrick scrunches his nose up again before wobbling onto his knees and crawling over Gabe. It's his go to move, one that gets him easy access and control. He's short and bossy and Gabe loves it when he gets like that in bed. "We can have some fun if it means you don't leave." Gabe lets Patrick go with it, feels damp fingers press against his stomach, nails digging in. He laughs, hands low on Patrick's back as they bump heads.

"You want sex?" Patrick asks, wet mouth sliding over Gabe's cheek. He palms himself, writhing into his hand as he straddles Gabe higher. It's a nice sight, but Gabe's trying to be good, trying to be a better man.

"I'm not exactly sober, but you're way past your limits. Consent issues, dude," Gabe says, to which Patrick sits back in a huff. He already looks fucked; pink cheeks and red mouth, with those blue eyes all wide and soft. Even his nipples are peaked beneath his shirt, and Gabe slides his hands beneath the material. He presses his fingers down until he can feel the bones of Patrick's ribs, it's a little disconcerting, not worrying, but different. He tries to keep his worries to himself and monitor Patrick quietly. It might not work, it might not be the best thing, but he doesn't know what else to do.

"We can cuddle, babe." Gabe pulls Patrick down on top of him, wincing when Patrick's forehead hits his jawline. "Cuddle and then sleep."

"Travie's here, though. We said we'd do it tonight." Patrick's wiggling, refusing to settle down and Gabe keeps his heavy sigh to himself, allowing the elbows and knees to prod at his sides as Patrick gets comfy.

"Yeah, then why did you get this wasted then?"

"You know why," Patrick whispers into Gabe's ear when he's settled. "Cheers me up."

"Just don't go too far with it." Gabe thinks he's getting somewhere with Patrick when he doesn't talk for a few moments, but when he twists down to look, Patrick's eyes are blinking up at him, framed by his soft lashes, fanning and closing every so often. "Don't give me that look."

"What look?" Patrick asks sweetly, mouth opening, thumb pressing between his teeth. Gabe is a weak man when it comes to those looks.

"The one where you want me to fuck you."

Patrick's laugh is more of a silly giggle than anything else. "I do want you to fuck me. Cheer me up."

"The booze was cheering you up." Gabe is trying, he is trying _so_ hard, but Patrick is demanding and whiny at the best of times, and right now it's starting to get too much. Gabe's only got so much self control.

"Not enough." Patrick starts to tug at his jeans, clumsy hands fussing with his zipper until Gabe undoes it for him. He runs his hand into the waist of Patrick's briefs, past the short brush of hair and to his heated dick. It twitches against his fingers and Gabe laughs as Patrick bucks up. "Come on, play with me."

"Play with yourself," Gabe says instead, rolling to the end of the bed. He is _not_ going to last, but he's going to try and not touch Patrick. Travie will just have to wait and Gabe will just have to jerk himself off later.

Patrick gives him a snotty look, red lips and gingery hair on end. Gabe wants to bury his face in his shoulder and just breathe him in, soak him up until there's nothing between them. He doesn't know what the fuck that means, but it's turning his brain delirious. Patrick's got enough in him that he can twist to the side, open the bedside draw, and grab the first tube of slick he comes to. It's a bright candy-red coloured thing in a pump tube.

"Strawberry kiwi. Gross," Patrick says, but he doesn't bother replacing it with anything else. "'Least it's not the stuff that gave me a rash."

"Or the one that burnt me." Gabe helps Patrick out of his pants, out of his boxers, until he's naked from the waist down.

"Like what you see, Gabe?" Patrick asks, rolling the lube between his hands as he settles down, a pillow against the small of his back.

"I always do, but open your legs more." Gabe spreads out at the end of the bed, resting on his elbow, his spare hand trailing lightly against his own legs. Patrick shuts his own legs briefly in petulance before he opens them again. He thumbs the pump of the lube, squirting it between his hands before sliding a slick hand over his cock.

Patrick may be drunk, but he still knows how to get himself off. Gabe watches him jerks his cock a few times, up and down, a slight twist of his wrist as he slides over his head. His thighs twitch, and a faded tooth-indented bruise on the back in his right thigh shows up stark against his pale skin.

Then Patrick lifts up, hips rising from the pillow and Gabe's gets a quick flash of his opening before he's falling back down onto the bed. Patrick laughs, one leg open all the way, his arm hooked beneath the knee of the other, lifting it up. Gabe goes to slide his hand around Patrick's ankle, but Patrick pulls it from his grasp.

"You didn't want to touch me, remember? You only get to watch," Patrick says haughtily. He's a bitch, he really is sometimes, and it takes a lot for Gabe to put his hand back to his own jeans, fiddling with the zipper.

"I'm such a good boyfriend," Gabe points out. "You know how easy it is for me to move you around. I'm letting you have this."

"Thanks." Patrick isn't focused on him, more interested in fucking his cock between slick fingers, the smell of artificial fruit filling the air. His other hand's been brushing soft circles on the back of his own thigh, but now he slides it down, tucking it in against his cleft. Gabe sees how his fingers shine with lube in the light before they sink into his body; two straight, a third curved against his cheek as he bares his teeth. Gabe palms himself lightly, think this is so not going to end with him restraining himself, but at least he's tried. He's a trouper for trying.

Patrick's done this more than enough, fingered himself for Gabe plenty of times. Sometimes he'll grab a toy after, or beg Gabe to fuck him until he comes. Right now he just fucks himself slowly, fingers sinking into the depths of his tight asshole before pulling out. Gabe laps it all up with his eyes; the slick sounds, the way Patrick's thighs tense up as he tucks his third finger inside.

"I feel good, Gabe. Tight and warm, just how you like it. There's room for you if you like, if you really want me." Gabe's already sliding a hand to Patrick's ass, pointer finger pushing against where Patrick's holding himself open. He sinks his digit down into his boyfriend's body, Patrick clenching for show, making noises he wouldn't normally.

Gabe fucks Patrick slowly with that one finger, it went in dry, but it's already sticky with the fruity lube and Patrick's rim catches on his knuckle as he adds a second finger. Patrick's hand has sneaked up his shirt, pushing it up beneath his arms so that he can play with his nipples. He's rough with himself, tweaking and pinching until they're both red and standing to a point, his dick full and thick as it bounces against his stomach.

Patrick bats Gabe's hand away after a time, his fingers drawing out as he pleasures himself again. God, Gabe doesn't know what to do, take his own dick in hand, which is pressing painful to his jeans, or suck Patrick off. He's got a nice dick, the kind that fills his mouth nicely.

Patrick's speeding his movements up, his wrist catching as Gabe tugs his own jeans off. Fuck it, he's thinking. If I want to fuck my boyfriend I can. He wants it, it's obvious. He grabs Patrick's ankle again, kissing it as he pushes it further away from Patrick's body. He's about to grab the lube, pump enough so that his cock is soaked in the stuff before burying himself dick first into Patrick's easy body, fuck him down into the mattress, cheer him up in all the ways he's loves when--

"Oh! My bad, you guys just--" Travie's voice comes through loud and Gabe twists his head to catch a glance at his friend standing in the doorway looking flushed, eyes drawn away from the bed.

"Oh hi, Travie!" Patrick calls out happily, too intoxicated to care about the fact he's got three fingers in his own ass, everything quite on show for Travie to see."What's up?"

"I wanted to make sure y'all were alright. I hadn't seen either of you since I caught Gabe dragging your drunk ass up the stairs, but uh, it's cool. I'm gonna chill downstairs, make sure no one disturbs you." Travie goes to leave, but Gabe hops up from the bed, almost falling until he kicks his jeans off completely.

"No, dude. Come sit on the bed. _Join us_." Gabe tugs on his friend's arm, sees understanding in his eyes as he follows Gabe to the bed. He smells like sweet pot, like he's blazed and that means two intoxicated fools for Gabe to deal with, but fuck it. Patrick wants this and Gabe wants this and Travie isn't pulling away, is falling onto Gabe's side of the bed. Patrick's no longer fingering himself, though he's not covering himself up either.

"So what we all doing up here, then?" Travie asks slowly. He doesn't look anxious, but he's not touching Patrick, even when Patrick looks at him with an open gaze. Gabe slides behind Patrick, pulls him back before he thinks about crawling semi-naked all over their friend. A drunk Patrick is very different to a sober one.

"What do you think? I was cheering myself up because Gabe wouldn't help. Would you help me?" Patrick fucking simpers, lashes fluttering, loose mouth dropping open. He's resting against Gabe's chest, but his body is pointing directly at Travie.

"Uh," Travie laughs nervously, dark eyes sliding to Gabe like he wants permission, like he owns Patrick. He doesn't; they're not possessive like that, but it makes something like excitement shoot down Gabe's spine as he presses tight to Patrick's back.

"We kinda did invite you to the party to have you here," Gabe admits. "This fucking idiot got himself wasted though. That wasn't a part of the plan."

"It's usually you. I'm usually taking care of your drunk ass," Patrick cuts in, which is true. Gabe's a lush, he always has been, but he's always more in control than Patrick.

"True." Gabe kisses Patrick's cheek, smiles when he turns his head, and then kisses him on his mouth. "But you want in just for the night, McCoy?"

"We never did get around to doing shit," Travie says. Way back when, back to before Patrick, there'd been talk of Travie playing with him and Bill. He's hot and he's funny and he's an awesome friend, but their dynamic seemed too similar on their own. It always felt like they needed a third.

"Is he up for it?" Travie nods his head to Patrick, who's busy laughing quietly into Gabe's neck, muttering beneath his breath.

"He wants it. He's not on anything, he just drank too much." Gabe leaves out the not eating thing because it's private. Sometimes he's desperate to ask Pete about it, but he hates the idea of going to someone else about how to deal with his boyfriend. Patrick realized shit too late to ever want to do anything with Pete, and Gabe trusts him with the world, but there is shit there, and Gabe wants to keep things as normal as possible.

"So, okay you wanna come here, then?" Travie stretches his long arms out to Patrick, who's turning from Gabe's chest to look down at their friend. He doesn't need asking twice, stumbling down into Travie, laughing into his cheek.

"You're taller than Gabe," Patrick mutters when he's pulling away from Travie's cheek. "I like that."

Travie laughs, "Yeah?" he pushes Patrick's hair back, eyes sliding down to Patrick's naked bottom half." You smell suspiciously fruity."

"Strawberry kiwi lube." Patrick holds the red tube up. "We prefer pina colada, but they sent us the wrong stuff."

"Of course." Travie plays along, thumb pressing into the indent below Patrick's lower lip. "I shoulda known you'd be into that shit."

"One time Gabe bought me a bunny outfit." Patrick drops down, ass sticking out round and proud. He's pushing Travie's shirt up, kissing at his flat stomach, tongue flicking against tattoos. He's slick between his thighs, lube shining against his ass, and it's a delicious view. Gabe wants to touch; wants to taste. "Not the one in the video."

"I'm getting all your secrets, Saporta," Travie says, a hand sliding to Patrick's hair as he starts to kiss the dark hair just above his shorts. Gabe can't move his eyes from Patrick, his asshole flashing again as he straddles Travie's legs.

"Better you than Pete." Gabe leans forward, crawling up until he's pressed behind Patrick, so that he's leaning over him. Kissing Travie is easy, he's gentle and baked and... Patrick's squirming between them, tucked against their chests. Gabe just laughs into Travie's mouth, kissing his lips and then his jaw before pulling away . "Don't you guys forget about me."

Patrick laughs, rocking back until Gabe lets him up. Travie's probably getting a little crushed beneath them both, though he remains quiet about it. Maybe he's in shock, Gabe doesn't know, he doesn't really care.

"Gabe, come on," Patrick whines, grabbing Gabe's hand and pressing it to his cock. He's still the only one with his dick out and Gabe jerks it a few times, feels the familiarity of Patrick shaking in his arms at the touch.

"Alright alright." Gabe goes to pull Patrick's shirt off, but Patrick keeps his elbows down, won't go with it, so he stops and leaves it for now. "Go make out."

Patrick doesn't need asking twice, crawling out of Gabe's arms to Travie again. Gabe knows from experience that a drunk Patrick isn't exactly down for finesse, but Travie is laughing warmly at Patrick, pulling him up and sliding dark arms around him.

Gabe goes for Travie's pants, deciding that someone's going to need to control this shit and it is his boyfriend he's letting out like this. This is something he’s only really thought of casually and it's not just a fantasy any longer. If it was anyone else he’d be 100% up for it, but Patrick’s never been with another man and even if he never saved himself for specifically for Gabe, it’s something he’s always found kinda hot; kinda sweet.

He starts to suck Travie when he has him out of his pants. He’s not sucked anyone else in years now, hasn’t wanted to since he’s been with Patrick, but it’s a nice cock. Thick, larger than his own, and quick to rise. He licks at the head, flattens his tongue along the underside and breathes in the musky scent of sex. Patrick’s ass is hovering above Gabe’s forehead, the artificial scent of the lube making his head sting, but he slides his knuckles lightly over Patrick’s asscheeks, feeling warm soft skin. When he pulls back he hears the sounds Patrick’s making, the sounds that only he normally gets him to make. Jealously shoots him once in the stomach; his insides clenching before he breathes and lets it go.

Patrick’s hazy when Gabe grabs him beneath his arms, his reaction delayed and wobbly. Still, his lips are as bruised as Travie’s and his dick is hard, damp at the head. Gabe breathes him in, his warmth and his love, and the slightness of his body right now. He’s still everything Gabe knows these days; everything he wants.

“You want Travie to fuck you?” Gabe whispers to his ear, licking the shell and laughing when Patrick twists away, a petulant look on his face.

“You won’t leave if I say yes?” Patrick asks when he leans back to Gabe again. Gabe laughs, as if this is something he’d ever say no to. He’s not normally into voyeurism, and as much as jealousy is trying to take over, he's still kinda digging the idea of watching Patrick with Travie.

“I’m not going to fucking back out now, asshole. I don’t think Travie is either, right?” Gabe turns to their friend, still sprawled across their bed, thin body spread out; cock standing proud, he shakes his head. He wants to see Patrick suck it and he turns to him. “Suck his dick.”

“You suck it,” Patrick says, and then remembers that Gabe’s spent the last five minutes doing such a thing. “Fine.” He crawls forward, but then Travie is sitting up, holding Patrick’s face in his hands.

“How do I know you’re gonna keep your teeth to yourself?” Travie’s voice comes out low, and it goes straight to Gabe’s dick. He’s pulling out of his own shirt and boxers. When he looks back over, Patrick’s got two of Travie’s fingers sliding in and out of his mouth, his pink tongue darting over the tips, his lips bumping their length before he folds them into his mouth again. Gabe touches himself, looks over at Travie, who’s starting to breathe a little deeper. “Try doing that to my cock now.”

Patrick slides down the bed again, bumping into Gabe on his way down. Gabe rolls over next to Travie, gets a good shot of Patrick dropping his mouth down over Travie, pale fingers wrapped tight to the base, keeping it steady.

"He’s good," Travie says, hips bucking up as Patrick eyes him, shoving them back down roughly. Patrick’s not really into getting gagged unless he specifically says so and he gets pissy about it with Gabe all the time. “You’re a lucky dude, man.”

“Yeah.” Patrick’s eyes slide to Gabe, blue and bright, his lips stretched pale around the cock in his mouth. He’ll bitch tomorrow about a sore jaw, whine until Gabe peppers him with kisses and feeds him ice cream, but it’s a hot look for now. Gabe wishes it was his dick, because he kinda figures he’s going to be the odd one out here, but it’s okay. He tells himself tomorrow, the day after and every day after that, Patrick is his and no one else's and that’s all that matters.

Patrick must show a flash of teeth a few seconds later because Travie suddenly moves, pushing Patrick’s head away from his groin. “That’s enough, buddy.”

"Sorry," Patrick laughs, covering his mouth with his hand and crawling back over to Gabe. He’s warm and giggly as he presses their mouths together and it calms Gabe a little bit. "You gonna touch me now or you still concerned about consent?"

"How do you want it?" Patrick’s straddling Gabe’s waist, but then Travie’s large hand is resting against the meat of his thigh, tips of his fingers dimpling the flesh. Patrick moans and Gabe grabs his chance to tug Patrick’s shirt off. His nipples stand hard and pink and Gabe pulls him down, sucking one into his mouth, biting down and feeling Patrick rub up against him.

“Can we do it like this?” Patrick asks, fingers curling against Gabe’s shoulders, nails biting down into skin. Over his shoulder he sees Travie looking around for something and Gabe points to the bedside drawer.

“However you want, babe.” Gabe strokes a hand through Patrick’s hair, softening the moment, letting Patrick ground himself. Patrick shakes on top of him, laughing a little bit. Even drunk, he’s still cautious; still nervous beneath the lashings of booze in his body. Patrick shudders and shouts out a moan as Travie comes back to him. The noise he makes is familiar enough that he knows Travie's sliding careful fingers into his body, making sure he's still ready.

"You feel good, pretty boy," Travis says, smirking over Patrick's shoulder, one hand pulling Patrick's chest back to him. Gabe's breath catches at the look of Patrick, pale, red and small against Travie, who isn't exactly well-built, but is tall and lithe; dark and inked. Gabe doesn't know Patrick like this, it's new and it's hot and Gabe doesn't know what to do. He can't even speak.

Gabe comes to life when Patrick braces hands on his chest, eyes squeezed shut. There's the sound of a wrapper tearing, the slick roll of a condom and then Travie's wrapping wide hands over Patrick's hips and pulling him back. Patrick groans deep, head dropping down as he's pulled backwards onto Travie's dick. Nerves have caused his body to tighten up and he's not making it easy, making everything a little more tight. Gabe strokes his hair, pushes it back and watches Patrick's red face puff and squeeze up as he tries to adjust.

"Okay," Patrick says after a time. Gabe pushes him back up again, so that he's pressed up against Travie, his cock heavy and leaking. There's another slick noise, but then Travie's fingers are thrusting into Patrick's mouth, splitting his lips wide. Patrick stares down at Gabe, pulled back, arching forward. Gabe doesn't know what to do, he's not accustomed to being clueless when it comes to sex with Patrick. This isn't his role.

Gabe sits up the bed, wriggles so he's not trapped beneath the two of them. Travie is going for it. He may have been smooth and relaxed when it came to making out with Patrick, but he's putting his height and strength into getting Patrick to bend over, hips angled upwards to meet his thrusts. Gabe watches, a hand low on Travie's back. Even time he pulls out, Gabe can see Patrick's ass turning red from the impact.

Gabe twists Travie's head, tugs him over for a kiss. Patrick's a useless, mumbling mess and he wants something, some form of affection. Travie’s mouth bumps carelessly into his own, his lips a little chapped and with a rough scratch of beard brushing Gabe's chin.

“Gabe…” Patrick’s voice spits out. “I fucking swear--”

“Looks like you’re needed,” Travie murmurs against Gabe’s lips, the joke catching between them both as Gabe moves back to Patrick, sitting in front of him. Patrick’s flustered red, with eyes unfocused. He’s panicking again.

“Calm it, Patrick. It’s alright,” Gabe tries to soothe. He’s not sure what to do in this situation, other than kiss Patrick a few times and try and ground him again. It’s not really working and so he puts a hand on Travie’s shoulder, stopping his thrusts. "Change up. Travie sit back against the headboard."

Gabe watches Travie slide out, holding his latex wrapped cock in his hand as he rests against the headboard. Gabe can't help but look at his body. Tatted up and unashamedly open about it. Pale dark skin and a sweet smile on his face. Gabe's pretty glad it's him he's sharing Patrick with and no one else.

"Nobody has touched your dick in forever," Patrick says, coming back to himself. His own cock is still hard, but Gabe's gone limp over the last few minutes. Patrick touches him, spits into his hand and then wraps it over Gabe's length. "Want me to suck you for a bit?"

"Nah, I'll get my fill eventually." Gabe holds Patrick around his ribs, looking at his face. He's a little out of it, and if it was the other way around, Patrick would be slapping Gabe's face to try and alert him again. As it is, and because Gabe isn't that much of a bitch, he just squeezes his sides until Patrick looks up at him. "Ready to continue before we all lose it?"

Patrick nods, turning around to face Travie. "This is probably terrible for you, I'm sorry."

"Its all good," Travie laughs, slapping his thighs. "Come here with your back to me, that way you won't lose sight of Gabe."

"We are huge fans of reverse cowgirl, right Pat?" Gabe laughs, pressing his lips to Patrick before he can make a comment. He helps him over Travie's lap, Gabe holding his friend's cock at the base, his pinkie swirling against dark hair, hearing him moan as Patrick hovers over him. It doesn't take much to sink down, Patrick already so loose and slick.

Gabe pushes Patrick down, so that he's resting back-to-chest on Travie, lifting his legs until they're hooked outside of Travie's. He's so small against their friend; small against _him_. Gabe's so used to it now, used to bending down as Patrick lifts up for a kiss, used to feet dangling off the end of the bed if he wants to bury his face in his boyfriend's chest. He could completely sandwich Patrick here, could drape himself over to kiss Travie and Patrick would be wedged tiny between them both.

Travie's fingers are slick and sucked tight between Patricks lips again, Daryl Hall's face far more intimate to Patrick than he'd ever suspect. It's hot, _so hot_ , to see Patrick impaled on Travie's cock, a large hand wrapped over his chest, another squirming into his mouth. He's not sure if he ever wants to share Patrick again, but it's worth it for this, for how Patrick's staring at him.

Gabe's crawling forward onto his knees between the open space. He shifts Travie's hand so that he can suck at Patrick's chest, teeth scraping though fine chest hair before he slides left to a nipple. He pulls it tight between his teeth, tongue lapping and pressing. Patrick's cock is slick against Gabe's stomach as he pinches the other nipple and he squeezes it in his hands just to hear Patrick gasp harder.

He runs his tongue down, noticing that Patrick is doing _nothing_ to help Travie, who is thrusting out of sync and clumsily. Patrick just rests on him, legs wide, cock red and ass spread around the thick dick nudged inside him.

Gabe mouths at Patrick's cock, licks at the ridge and holds the rest tightly in his grip. Patrick's staring down at him, three fingers still sliding into his mouth, stopping his words, but his cock pulses and his thighs shake. Gabe nudges at his balls, licks over the seams and then sucks at them wetly, fingers tight to his cock. He's getting hard again now with Patrick's dick in his mouth, it's not enough to really get him off, but it's better than before. As he bobs his head Patrick grasps at his hair, tugging roughly, crying out around the digits in his mouth. Gabe tightens fingers around the base of Patrick's cock, watches him writhe around on top of Travie, who is barely getting his cock to slide in and out.

Gabe drops his mouth lower, still one hand over Patrick's dick. It's nice down here, Travie's fat cock tight inside Patrick, who is pink in all the right places, slick from too much lube. Gabe tastes his rim, runs his along the base of Travie's cock, feels heat and slick skin and tastes fruity lube that isn't anything like strawberry. Patrick fucking squeals, a breathless grunt escaping McCoy as he prods around, holding Patrick's cheeks apart to get better access. He knows what Patrick can take, that he panics about everything unless he's obscenely turned on. From the way he's crying out, from the way his dick is fucking leaking, he's ready for anything. Gabe rubs his pointer finger against Patrick's cleft, gathering stray lube until it's slick enough to press inside Patrick's already stretched entrance.

Gabe lifts up as he sinks his finger inside, tucked to Travie's cock. Patrick looks up at him, nipples peaked to tight nubs, his mouth dropping open as the hand finally slides from his mouth. His lips are cherry red, his open mouth even brighter as Gabe leans forward, finger still inched inside him.

"You’re killing me," Patrick says, but he isn't complaining. His hands tug at Gabe's hair again, pressing down into his skull. It feels better now, like they're all getting something out of this.

It's hard to brace himself on one hand and it's even harder when Patrick wraps a leg over Gabe's waist. He keeps his hand pressed between Patricks legs and rests the other one beneath Travie's shoulder. Patrick kisses him as Gabe rocks his hips down. It's not the best angle, but Gabe's cock is nudged against Patrick's belly. The slide is good, it's nice, and with Patrick holding onto him like this it's even better.

"Papi," Patrick whispers low, and Gabe isn't even embarrassed about how much he loves it and how he's glad that Patrick uses it in the bedroom now. "I don't-- I don't." Gabe pulls his finger out, wrapping it tight around Patrick's cock instead. Patrick comes on the first upstroke, a loud strangled cry croaking from the back of his throat. He's grinding back, down onto Travie's cock and Gabe hears the telltale sounds of him coming, deep inside Patrick, a hand pinching Patrick's jaw in the process.

Gabe slides up on shaky knees as Travie slides out from beneath Patrick. Gabe's cock aches and he's not had enough attention long enough from anyone to be having a really good time. Gabe doesn't like having to wait, but Patrick, flat on his back with a flaccid cock and a drunk addled brain just licks his lips thoughtfully.

"If you think you're gonna come in less than thirty seconds you can put it inside me," he says, "I'm sore, but I feel bad that you've missed out."

Gabe doesn't need telling twice, he bounces between Patricks legs as Travie ambles off to the en-suite to clean up. He sinks into Patrick, not caring that he's stretched and slick from another man's cock. It's slutty, but he still feels like Patrick. His arms wrap around Gabe's body, his mouth nudged to his jaw. Missionary means Patrick gets kinda smothered sometimes, so Gabe braces himself, one arm hitching Patrick's thigh up and he glances down, so that he can see where Patrick's pink and stretched, taking him easy. He comes like that, as another pair of lips suddenly brush against the base of his spine, a warm hand on his hip. Gabe cries out, forgetting to pull out as he releases.

"Imagine what Pete would say if he saw me now," Patrick says, ruining the moment. Gabe gently pulls out, giving him a filthy look as he rolls onto his back. Travie is still there, laughing at them both, wiping himself off and passing a damp cloth to Gabe.

"I'll let you clean him up," Travie says. He's not leaving to put his clothes on just yet, which is good. Gabe doesn't want him to feel totally used. He wipes his own stomach off before throwing the cloth at Patrick.

"He can wipe his own ass after bringing Pete into this." Gabe gives Patrick a sidelong view, who just frowns softly as he holds the towel between his legs for a moment.

"Sorry, promise I won't tell him," Patrick says, as he drops the cloth and wiggles his hand at Travie, who gets it and leans closer, kissing Patrick's nose instead of his mouth. "Thanks for cheering me up."

"You ain't gonna remember any of this in the morning, but it was good. Thanks for conspiring to fuck me." It's only then that Travie goes to leave, tugging on his jeans as Patrick rolls over to face Gabe. Gabe sits up in protest, but Travie shakes his head good-natured. "Don't sweat it, Saporta. No hard feelings, but I better see how your party's doing downstairs. You look after him."

"I forgot about the party," Gabe admits, falling back down. He can't really remember anything past the last few minutes. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, buddy. You can crash in the guest room." Travie winks in response, pulling on his t-shirt before leaving the room.

"You gotta look after me properly tomorrow, papi. I already hurt," Patrick slurs. Gabe thought he'd already passed out, but apparently not. He rolls Patrick onto his back again and then slides down the bed until he can press his cheek against Patrick's heartbeat. Patrick clings to him, arms around his head and thighs tucking to Gabe's ribs, holding him close. It's better than nice, and it soothes Gabe. He's always been up for anything and it wasn't bad, but he's pretty sure threesomes with Patrick are just a step too far. He likes all the attention on him.

"I always look after you," Gabe answer finally. He hasn't abandoned Patrick in months now, hasn't forgotten that a serious relationship means picking that person over a good time. They're independent, but Patrick isn't always that clued up on how Gabe works. "I'm gonna make you pancakes in the morning and you're going to eat the whole stack."

"Yeah. Good idea," Patrick sighs sleepily, fingers stroking gently across Gabe's scalp. "And you're still the best I've had. Don't worry."


End file.
